She was tied to the place so that she could turn over only with difficulty.
“Good gracious!” he cried, “who are you? What does this mean? Have you been hurt?”
“No,” she answered, weakly, “but I am so weak and hungry. They haven’t given me anything to eat or drink for more than a day. I suppose they have forgotten me. I am Estelle Bradley, sir. If you would only get word to my father! He is the Governor of Wenonah, and I know he would reward you!”
“Don’t try to talk, Miss Bradley,” interrupted Patsy.
He was stooping to cut the cords that bound her to the floor.
When this was done, he helped her to her feet and then downstairs. On the way, he took the papers he had seen in the box, and put them in his pockets.
She told him, when he explained that he was a detective, how she had been deceived by a message that was supposed to be sent by her lover, Cecil West.
“It was handed to me during a party at my father’s house,” she said, “and it told me that Cecil was lying dangerously wounded not far away. I went at once to see him, and was seized by rough men, who brought me here and have kept me ever since.”
Patsy took her to a hotel, where they had breakfast.